The Fearless Warrior
by Belfast Docks
Summary: "This one lived a free life because of your kindness, and that made a difference." Taran, Eilonwy, Gwydion, and Gurgi pay homage to the most fearless of warriors.


**Author's Note:** A highly depressing sort of piece that wormed its way into my head. I haven't written anything for _Prydain_ in a long time, so it was a bit challenging to get back into these characters' heads again.

Borrows some ideas from a story I wrote years ago called _Destiny_.

 **Disclaimers:** Major spoilers for _The High King_.

 **Additional Note:** Fellow _Prydain_ fan, the amazing CompanionWarrior, did an absolutely stunning artwork for this story after she read it, and I was so very excited to see it. I can never quite believe any of my stories have inspired her to sketch, so I am quite honored and humbled. She is truly incredible. Be sure to take out all of the spaces for the link below and replace the word "dot" wit a real dot and the word "backslash" with a real backslash. Because FFnet is a pain and won't allow outside links. Also check out her stories! CW writes so much like Lloyd Alexander that I often confuse her created details for Lloyd's reality (and I have been known to accidentally incorporate her details into my stories thinking they were Lloyd's, though I do always try to give her credit as soon as I realize what I did, and she has been immeasurably kind to me about that!)

saeriellyn dot deviantart dot com backslash art backslash Fullest-Measure-707406585

~ Belfast Docks

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 **The Fearless Warrior**

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The great black body drew him like a terrible beacon, up the gentle slope of the mountain's crest. He knew he should have told Gwydion or Eilonwy where he was going, rather than slip away unnoticed, but this was something he felt he needed to do on his own.

When he reached the crumpled, battered mass of feathers, his heart broke yet again. Her blood ran red over the stones of the mountain, down towards Annuvin's stronghold. With overwhelming sadness, he knelt slowly before the still creature, the loose rocks jabbing at his knees. He folded his legs and sat upon the uncomfortable ground, and cupped the bird's head with his hands.

It was heavy, for she had been of immense size – the largest he had ever seen. But the feathers around her beak and half-lidded eyes were soft, and he stroked her face gently. Then without warning, he began to cry. Tears streamed down his face and he bowed his head, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut in desperate effort to stem the flow, but they wouldn't stop.

Well he remembered the day he'd found her: a fledging with a wounded wing and bad temper. Doli thought him positively mad for taking her in. When she escaped, Taran had been disappointed that she had left them. Doli accused her of going back to Arawn to reveal their whereabouts, which had saddened Taran further, but that had never been the case. She had never betrayed them. She had kept their secret, and she had obviously never forgotten them.

The incident seemed so long ago, now. Back then, Gwydion mentioned that Arawn would have killed the creature on sight for betraying him even the slightest bit, and Taran had often wondered where she had gone, or if Arawn had found her after she left Gwydion. But Arawn hadn't found her. _Perhaps she went to Medwyn_ , he thought, as he gazed through his tears down at her face. Medwyn would have given her refuge, and without hesitation. Medwyn would have been able to see through her bristly nature, as though she were made of glass, to her true heart and feelings. He would have known everything about her.

Taran's back bent until his head nearly touched her own, still cradled in his hands between his crossed legs. She had saved his life twice today, first pulling him from the ledge when he had been about to fall to his death, and again from the Cauldron Born as they came to kill him. Yet, how many humans and creatures had died because of _him_? This beautiful gwythaint, and Coll... Llonio, Annlaw, and so many others from the Commots... And he was nothing more than an Assistant Pig-Keeper. He did not deserve this sort of unwavering loyalty, for he was no one but Taran of Caer Dallben! He began to cry even harder, so hard that he thought he might stop breathing, and yet he kept on crying, heartbroken as he was.

A pair of small hands slid suddenly around his waist and he felt a soft thump between his shoulder blades.

 _Eilonwy_.

" _Breath_ , Taran. _Please_."

Her voice was barely a whisper, but he did as she commanded. Immediately, his lungs filled with air and he gasped, the tears still streaming down his face, but his eyes opened and he gasped again for more air.

"So many," he choked out, as the gwythaint's body swam before his vision and he held the head close to his chest. "So many died, Eilonwy. Because of me! I don't deserve that. I didn't _want_ that! I'm not _worth_ that!"

She shifted, crawling beside him. Her hair and clothing were dirty and her face was streaked with smoke from the fires in Annuvin. He immediately thought of the many times _she_ could have died...countless times he could have lost _her_...and his chest tightened again with fear and anguish.

Eilonwy reached out and stroked the feathers around the beak, and before he could sink back into total despair, she murmured, "They died because of Arawn, Taran. Not because of you. I know what you're going to say - that you were the one who asked them to fight. But if it hadn't been you, it would have been someone else, and Gwydion asked your help." She paused, then added softly, "She was a beautiful creature, wasn't she? When I was younger, I thought gwythaints were positively hideous. But I know now, from Gwydion, that they were slaves, unable to free themselves from Arawn. But this one lived a free life, Taran. You mustn't ever forget that. Even if Arawn searched for her, she managed to evade capture. Because of _you_ , she lived free."

"Until she gave her life for me," he said bitterly. "What was the point of her escaping if she was just going to die to save me later?"

Eilonwy reached out and gently closed the creature's eyelids with her fingers. "That was a decision she made consciously, and of her own free will. Had you not saved her, she would have remained under Arawn's power and control. Perhaps she felt the few years of freedom you gave her was worth her life."

He whispered, "It wasn't." Then, he added sadly, "I like to think that she went to live with Medwyn during those years."

Eilonwy was silent for a moment, leaning against his arm. She finally murmured, "What a lovely thought that is. You know, I suspect she did go to Medwyn. He would have taken her in willingly; he would have shown her love, instead of enslaving her. That would have made all the difference in the world."

They were quiet for a long time. The grief was immense, but Eilonwy's presence helped somewhat. He smiled ruefully when he thought that he had left her behind to come back up the mountain to find the gwythaint, in effort to deal with grief on his own. Perhaps he was truly foolish.

After a bit, he said quietly, "We should erect a barrow for her, as we did Coll."

Eilonwy stirred, but she did not have a chance to answer. From behind Taran, Gwydion's voice replied gravely, "A worthy decision. Will you allow me to help?"

Taran and Eilonwy struggled to their feet, and Taran's legs protested from having sat in the same position for so long. With Gwydion was Gurgi, snuffling and looking sad and badly singed.

"Gurgi will help too," the creature sniffled. "Gurgi will help build a barrow for great powerful bird that saved master's life."

Taran felt another pang of sadness. "Gurgi," he murmured, stepping forward and cupping Gurgi's head with his hands. The creature seemed startled, but Taran went on, "Faithful Gurgi. You are badly injured. You should return down the mountain and see if the others can treat your burns."

"No, no!" Gurgi shook his head, and burnt hairs flew in all directions. "Gurgi will help young master to bury great bird!"

"Let him," Gwydion said gently, touching Taran's arm and ending the discussion.

Taran's hands dropped to his sides and he nodded wearily. Glancing behind him at the bird again, he heaved a great sigh and said, "I hardly know where to begin."

"We shall search for rocks," Gwydion suggested. "This the gwythaint you saved some years ago, I believe?"

"She was. Doli thought I was mad. Her wing was injured and I wanted to nurse her back to health. You had told me they were slaves to Arawn. I thought, perhaps, if I were to show her kindness..."

"Yes. The gwythaints were indeed slaves to Arawn." Gwydion was folding one of the massive wings back against the bird's side, despite the fact that it had crumpled against the ground at a strange, unnatural angle. "But this one lived a free life because of your kindness, and that made a difference. Never think otherwise."

"That was what I told him," Eilonwy said.

"So many have died because of me," Taran repeated, gazing at Gwydion. "There is so much blood on my hands."

Gwydion finished tucking the wing into the gwythaint's body, and then came to Taran and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder to meet his eyes. For a moment, Taran realized the prince was far older than he had ever imagined – the lines on Gwydion's face were more pronounced than ever, there was more gray in his hair than Taran remembered, and his eyes did not have the sparkle Taran so well knew from the first time he had met the Prince of Don.

Somberly, Gwydion said, "In this, my friend, you and I have much in common. Know this – the burden is not born lightly, by either of us. But know also that I understand how you feel, and you are not to be scorned by any man. It is because you feel so keenly that makes you a good man, and not evil, like Arawn. Alas, the curse of being a prince – or a war leader – is the curse of responsibility."

"I once thought," Taran said quietly, "that being a prince was all glory and honor. Such a foolish thought. I beg your forgiveness for how I acted as a child."

"You need not ask, for with age comes wisdom," Gwydion responded, clapping his shoulder gently, before turning to find more stones. "I am sorry I have asked so much of you during this time. But you have done well, Taran of Caer Dallben. Very well indeed. Now, let us properly bury this beautiful creature, and remember her heroism and bravery."

Taran nodded, and turned to help the others find stones to erect the gwythaint's barrow. But his heart was heavy, and he knew that covering the bird's body, hiding it from view, would not ease the burden. He rather thought that nothing would ever ease the burden of knowing the creature had given her life for him, no matter what Eilonwy or Gwydion said.

 **FIN**


End file.
